


Growing Pains

by stultiloquent



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), The LEGO Batman Movie (2017), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: (briefly) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - No Capes, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Coming Out, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Lego Robin - Freeform, Misgendering, Trans Dick Grayson, Trans Male Character, batdad feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stultiloquent/pseuds/stultiloquent
Summary: He looked down at the sweater and jeans get-up he was wearing. Bruce and Alfred were never particularly pushy about his appearance so long as what he wore was appropriate for his age. They let him wear his hair short, they let him run all over the estate grounds often in the same pair of overalls – they let him get away with a lot of things.But now, now he had to contend with the adults in the school's administration. So far, his looser clothing had been able to cover up the changes to his body, but a fitted white blouse would be a completely different story.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transishimaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transishimaru/gifts), [3dnygma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3dnygma/gifts).



> This began as a drabble spinning off of [my headcanon](https://stvlti.tumblr.com/post/187817101585/concept-lego-movieverse-x-dc-no-capes-au) that The Lego Batman Movie was just a story made up by a real human family playing with their Lego figurines, and the subsequent idea of a Batfam no capes AU x The Lego Batman Movie. I'm also super biased towards trans Dick Grayson headcanons, thus this plot bunny was born. 
> 
> Full disclosure, I am not trans myself; I've done research going into this fic, but if there are any inaccuracies to the transmasc experience please do let me know in the comments, I will try to do better.
> 
> Shout out to [Nori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transishimaru), [Eva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3dnygma) and [Nat](https://bander-yikes.tumblr.com) for being my unwitting beta readers. Thank you so much for vetting my concerns with the characterisations and picking out typos and such :kiss emoji:

Lego Robin remembers when he was made. It was one of those beautiful summer days dampened by Gotham's finicky weather. One moment the Bristol sky was a clear, brilliant blue, the next moment it was laden with pregnant grey clouds, bringing with them a torrential downpour. The occupants of Wayne Manor had been forced to cancel their day's plans and stay home. Through the pitter patter of the rain beating against the rec room's windows, he heard the sounds of a child's footsteps. The Grayson boy emerged into his line of sight then, peering down at him with a sketchbook clutched to his chest. He set the book down onto a nearby work bench and flicked through pages upon pages of colourful designs until he found what he was looking for. Then, with a determined nod, the boy transformed him into Robin, the Boy Wonder.

His sweater and jeans were swapped out for a costumed torso, a pair of prescription goggles, a lovingly-customised pair of green short pants, and a shiny yellow cape ("cut from the spare fabrics Alfred keeps around the house," the boy had stage-whispered to him. "Alfred is very good at sewing.") On weekdays he'd go to school, playing the role of billionaire Bruce Wayne's new ward, but at night he was the Batman's trusty sidekick. He would fly around the city, help his dad save lives and kick crime in the butt. And he was happy. This was where he truly belonged. 

*

"Ka-Pow!!" The boy ventriloquised. Lego Robin sailed through the air in his fingers. One stubby, outstretched leg made contact with a Lego henchman, knocking all the surrounding baddies over like bowling pins. "Sorry Mr. Bad Guys, guess it's way past your bedtime too!"

"Good job, Robin." The boy lowered his prepubescent voice and tried to affect Batman's gravelly timbre as much as possible. In his other hand, he walked Lego Batman across the floor of the crime scene. "How about we round them up and leave it for the Commish? It's getting quite late."

"Oh oh! Can I have cookies on the ride back?" 

The boy swivelled Lego Batman's grinning face around. "I don't see why not."

Another night out in Lego Gotham City, another day saved by the Dynamic Duo. This called for a celebration indeed. The boy set the pair of heroes down by the Lego Batmobile and reached over to his own plate of Alfred's after-school chocolate chip cookies. He took his sweet time with the last piece, savouring each bite, sighing at the way it melted on his tongue. 

Then he glanced over at his schoolbag and the contents spilling from its unzipped mouth, and sighed for a completely different reason.

The new school year had just begun, and with it his first year at Gotham Academy. As a transfer student, there were a number of circulars and permission slips he had to get Bruce to sign. Most of them were just formalities, medical records and legal paperwork that he was instructed to leave for his legal guardian to sort out. It was nothing he hadn't had to sit through back when the orphanage enrolled him at Gotham City Elementary. 

What was new, however, was the strict dress codes. So far, he had been wearing a plain shirt-and-tie combo beneath a borrowed crested blazer (a spare from the Lost and Found cupboard). The administration had given him a bit of leeway, considering it was only his first week at the Academy. But the week was almost up. He was expected to have his school uniforms tailored and fitted by next Monday, and no later. Gotham Academy was "a fine institution for the best and brightest in the Tri-state area, and we expect our pupils to wear our uniforms with propriety and pride," the Headmaster had lectured him on the very first day.

The boy didn't doubt it. He'd seen the way the disciplinary officer tore into a sophomore girl at the induction ceremony for wearing dress pants. Apparently, the boys' uniform was not a proper attire for a young woman to wear to school.

He stared down at the paperwork he was supposed to hand to Bruce. There, on his medical records, the single bolded letter "F" seemed particularly damning. There was no doubt which uniform they'd be making him wear. He squirmed, nausea coiling in his belly at the thought of wearing the mandated skirt and blouse uniform.

At 12, his breasts were starting to take shape. And people noticed. Adults have traded in head-pats and cheek-pinches for pointed clucking over how he should shed his boyish manners and clothing for ones that would more befit his lovely looks. The gala dinner conversations were the worst of them all. All that cooing over how much of a pretty lady he was growing into, and the unsubtle matchmaking with their rich, spoilt sons -- it was simply smothering. He used to take joy in donning different costumes and playing to different crowds, but he never wanted the costumes to swallow him whole. After that, wearing pretty dresses and meeting new people lost their appeal. And once he started picking at that train of thought in his mind, the rest of the threads came unravelling at the seams.

He found himself Googling the internet, searching for answers. Bruce tried his best to be home and spend time with him whenever he could, but he had a billion-dollar company to run. That left the boy to his own devices, a lot. It was during those hours that he came to learn about gender assignments, girls who were born in a boy's body, boys who the world insists on calling girls, and the incredible teenagers and adults who defied it all and grew up _happy_... Suddenly, he had words with which to articulate his feelings. And the more he learnt, the more he thought about it, the more that feeling of disgust and discomfort grew like a tide in him whenever he thought of dressing up and being paraded around like some kind of Little Miss America, with curves and a dolled-up face that he would one day grow into. He would rather not be known than be known as this false idea of who he was.

Whereas in the past he revelled in the attention lavished upon him in the ballroom, for the last 6 months he'd beg out of them at any chance he got. His behaviour didn't escape Bruce's notice; his dad was painfully observant like that. He overheard Bruce and Alfred discussing it in hushed, worried tones in the kitchen, once. But they seemed unsure what to do besides chalking it up to "growing pains". 

He looked down at the sweater and jeans get-up he was wearing. Bruce and Alfred were never particularly pushy about his appearance so long as what he wore was appropriate for his age. They let him wear his hair short, they let him run all over the estate grounds often in the same pair of overalls (which was his favourite piece of clothing they've bought him since coming to the Manor) – they let him get away with a lot of things. The first few weeks at the Manor he'd walked around on eggshells, afraid of upsetting the man that was now clothing and feeding him. He had been utterly terrified when Bruce found him poking around in one of the spare studies without expressed permission, fascinated as he was by the level of detail in the sprawling Lego Gotham City model. He had picked up some spare pieces to the side, already tinkering with them to see what he could build when Bruce walked in. Bruce had just laughed, and since then the room has been re-purposed as the rec room. On another occasion, Alfred caught him hand-walking and cartwheeling down the banisters. The butler didn't so much as bat an eyelid over potential scuffs on the polished mahogany, only tutting about needlessly endangering himself and then fixed his clothing on the spot. The next week, he showed him to a newly-installed set of swings and trapezes in the indoor gym, adding that "they are at your disposal should you ever feel the need to burn off your extra energy again". All told, they were Very Cool adults that really got him on a level most other adults he's met never did. 

But now, now he had to contend with the adults in the school's administration. And he was just one kid. There was no contest.

So far, his looser clothing had been able to cover up the changes to his body, but a fitted white blouse would be a completely different story.

He glanced over at Lego Robin's wardrobe, at the sweater and jeans hanging right next to the Robin uniform, and the dozen pairs of other masculine clothing he was free to wear without enduring a single comment about it on a day to day basis. Heck, change a hair piece and swap a face out and a Lego person was pretty much recognised as a different gender immediately.

If only real life was as easy as it was for Lego people.

*

Bruce pulled into the Manor's driveway at around 5:00 pm. It was an uneventful day at the office, most of the employees acting on their best behaviour, and for once his social schedule was clear for the night, so with Lucius's blessing to go home and spend time with his kid, he left early.

He gave Alfred his cursory greetings as he shrugged his jacket off. Before he could head with him to the kitchen and steal a bite or two, however, Alfred shooed him off to the West Wing with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

He found her in the rec room, slumped over the work bench, cookie crumbs dotting chubby cheeks. Gentle snores arose with each rise and fall of her chest.

For a moment, Bruce stood by the doorway, smiling fondly at the sight, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child. It seemed like just yesterday when he'd brought the little girl home, just a four-foot-five firecracker trying to soldier on despite losing both her parents at such a young age. He'd been aching with a need to give her a better childhood than he had when he was freshly-orphaned, and now, she had already hit her growth spurt and was following in his footsteps, going to school at his alma mater. 

He picked up a spare throw blanket from the nearby couch and gently set it over her shoulders. She stirred, sleepy eyelids blinking as she looked up at him. There were indents on her left cheek, no doubt left there by a Lego brick she must have fallen asleep on.

"Hey Bruce." She yawned, rubbing at her sleep-gummed eyes. "Is it dinner already?"

"Not yet. It's barely half-past five; Alfred only just started cooking."

"You came home early?" An infectious smile curled on her lips.

"Yeah." Bruce felt his own answering grin stretching across his face. "What are you working on, chum?"

That woke her up near instantly. Bruce hadn't been free to play with her on the Lego set for more than a month, now, and the child was bursting to share the things she's built in his absence. She walked them all over the Northern territories, starting from the Wayne Manor itself. Bruce listened with a smile on his face as the girl excitedly explained the evidence / trophy room in the Batcave and something called a Bat Shark Repellent Spray. Yet, there was an undercurrent of nervousness thrumming beneath her words; Bruce could tell in the fidgety nature of her movements, which were more fidgety than usual, and the way her grin didn't reach her full mega-watt smile. Her nervousness grew until she'd walked them through most of the neighbourhood, and then she turned to the Batmobile toy parked street-side down by the Harbor and picked up one of the Lego people there. It was a tiny thing with dashes of red and green all over it, and a piece of yellow cloth peeked through her grip. 

The child paused, thumbing the cloth as he collected his thoughts before he spoke them out loud.

"There's also this... new character I created..." He began slowly, keeping an eye on Bruce to gauge his reaction. Bruce's expression was relaxed and open, curiosity written all over his face, waiting for him to continue. He carried on, with a surety he didn't feel.

"This is Robin." He took the tiny goggles and the cloth off of the Lego figurine, revealing none other than the brick character he'd chosen to represent himself a few months ago. "Yeah, this is my Lego mini me." He added, almost superfluously, stalling on what he has consigned himself to confess. "Robin is Lego me's superhero alter-ego. I wanted my Lego self to be able to help Batman out in some way."

Bruce was nodding along, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. It did nothing to settle the boy's nerves. He could feel his heart thump-thump-thumping in his chest, just like all those years ago, the countless times when he thought he'd finally crossed a line and would be thrown out of the Manor for good. Only, he had so much more to lose this time around. This was his home now. And the thought that this might finally be the tipping point... it terrified him. It made him feel like he was standing over a twenty-feet drop with no safety net at the bottom. He didn't think he could survive it again.

He stared down at the "R" logo on Lego Robin's chest for the next bit, so he wouldn't have to see the look on Bruce's face when he dropped the bomb.

"Robin is... Robin..." He took a deep breath, and tried again. "He was named after his acrobatic abilities to flip off of great heights and fly around the city with the Batman. I—I even gave him his own catchphrase, 'Tweet tweet, on the street,' pretty neat, right? He's mostly there as the distraction while Batman gets stuff done, that's why he has all these bright colours, see? It's also kinda the colours he wore at the circus—" He was aware he was rambling now, bad habit whenever his nerves got to him, but he couldn't stop, running his mouth on autopilot as his gaze darted towards all corners of the room but at Bruce himself.

He missed the flicker of realisation on Bruce's face. When he did glance up, Bruce was sporting a slight frown.

"This Robin, that's your Lego alter-ego? Your crime-fighting persona is a boy?" 

He couldn't curb the tremble in his voice when he answered. "No. It's— his civilian identity is a boy, too. And Robin—" He swallowed, letting the sum of memories tied to that name wash over him. _Robin is me._ "Robin was what my parents called me."

There was a moment of pause, as Bruce seemed to search for a response. It felt like it lasted minutes. His fingers fidgeted with the Lego person without his permission, twisting and twisting the little hair piece as he awaited the verdict. He could imagine it, Bruce's observant mind working away on double time, swiftly and silently putting the pieces together. It wouldn't be long before he caught on to the whole picture. He felt so anxious he was ready to bolt. The only thing keeping him glued to the spot was the weight of Bruce's stare. 

Then, gently, carefully, Bruce said, "Are you... do you _still_ want to be Robin?"

He doesn't remember the exact words that tumbled out of his mouth after that. It just spilled out of him, all the ugly, jagged feelings that had been jostling inside of him for so long. But it was the look on Bruce's face, the understanding and acceptance in his eyes that gave him courage to speak. To explain what being Robin really meant to him, how freeing it was to fly and perform without expectations to his perceived girlhood. Up in the air, he was just a Flying Grayson. But now, when people saw him, all they wanted was for him to play the darling little Wayne girl. And that wasn't the script he wanted.

He was suddenly engulfed in a hug, one of those big, warm hugs of Bruce's that always made him feel safe from all the hurt in the world. He sniffled against the man's chest, trying to get a handle on the tears that had started falling at some point.

"Oh, son—" His heart clenched at the ease with which Bruce said those words. "I'm so sorry you've been feeling this way. I should've noticed how unhappy you've been."

He pulled back and blinked up at Bruce, his vision blurred by a fresh round of tears. But these were happy tears; he could feel the difference deep in his bones, a calm in his heart that he hadn't realised he'd missed until now. He smiled. "It's okay, it took me a while too. And... I think I'm still figuring it out. I'm just glad you're listening."

"Of course, my boy. I'll always listen." This time, it was him who pulled Bruce into a hug. He tried his best, even though his arms still couldn't quite reach around Bruce's middle.

Bruce kept a reassuring arm around his shoulders after they broke the hug. He handed him some tissues, waiting as he blew his nose and wiped the tear stains off his face.

"Okay. Do you feel like talking about the do's and don't's? I want to know how I can best support you." Bruce looked at the child's tired, still-watery eyes. "Or maybe you want to save that conversation for later?"

The boy shook his head a little, smiling. "No, no, hit me." 

Bruce thought about the cases he's seen before, LGBT teens coming to the Martha Wayne Foundation for resources. "Well, names, for starters. I'm assuming you don't want to be called Car—" Bruce seemed to catch himself at the last minute, but the boy felt a swell of gratitude at the fact that he caught himself at all. "What would you like to be called? Robin?"

The boy considered it for a moment. "Hmm. Don't think so." He spared a thought to his parents. He would always love them, and Robin would always be a part of him. But no, he didn't want to be Robin. He could not live as that child that he was 24/7. But he was ready to be— "Richard. I think... I want to be called Richard – Dick for short."

"Okay, Dick." Bruce said his name like he was committing it to memory. "What about pronouns? I'm assuming you don't want to go by she/her pronouns anymore?"

Dick nodded emphatically, elated that Bruce just _got it_. "I want to be called he/him outside my head too." He glanced at Lego Robin, grinning up at him in his palm, and set the Lego figurine back down onto the table.

Then his mind wandered back to the predicament at hand, and he sighed. "There's something else, Bruce." 

He tugged his schoolbag over, rummaging in it for a bit and showing Bruce the school uniform circular.

"I don't know how to tell the Headmaster about the uniform thing. Will they even give me special permission for it?" He frowned, doubt plaguing his thoughts when he started thinking of all the logistics they were going to have to tackle.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. We can take this slow. Let me talk to the administration. I'm the adult here, don't you worry over this."

"But Mrs. Cooper though. She's a force of nature." Dick winced, thinking back to the formidable disciplinary teacher who minded the middle-school division with the precision of a hawk.

Bruce just chuckled. "Mrs. Cooper has come after me for worse. If they do give you trouble, just point them my way. I'll sic Miss Vicki on them." 

The mental image of the ginger reporter hounding the school's staff for a human interest piece pulled an unbidden giggle out of Dick. "You wouldn't!"

**Author's Note:**

> In addition to not being trans OP has also never successfully come out to a parent figure; this has unintentionally become my real life fix-it and you're all welcome to live vicariously through Dick and the best version of Batdad with me.
> 
> The pronoun switch halfway through the third section, in the run-up to Dick's coming out, is entirely intentional. Just in case you were wondering; that is where I wanted the narrative to shift back to Dick's POV. I've been told by some it's a bit confusing, so let me know whether it actually worked for you, heh.
> 
> Gotham City Elementary is my own invention, but the Gotham Academy detail is pulled from Earth-16 (which is why I tagged Young Justice). That's a canon universe where Dick goes to the Academy.
> 
> Dick's deadname is a nod to Lego Robin's design in the movie. The goggles really resemble a different Robin's get-up.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here](https://stvlti.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
